The weather had remained somewhat consistent the past few days; cold. The air was cool and crisp, refreshing to the male’s nostrils as he took a single deep inhale, slowly de-tangling the spider web of scents into recognisable silken threads. He could smell the freshly fallen snow that blanketed the landscape in bright, glimmering white and he could distinguish the sour, decaying scent of the dead grasses that lay trapped in their earthen graves beneath it. The scent of the nearby Grizzly Hollow pack was always present in the air, the musky stench of their well-marked territorial boundaries drifted continuously through the maze of woodland trees. In the midst of this concoction of aromas, the young male could also smell something which was somehow both unfamiliar and innately recognisable to him.

Nostrils flared wildly as his head lifted to better test the air, licking his lips with curiosity. His tail swayed eagerly behind him as he considered following the trail of the strangely inviting perfume which clung to the cool winter breeze. With a huff in decision, Xander’s paws began to wander instinctively, aimlessly following the trail of the scent as it snaked through the meadow. It had only been a few weeks, if not days ago, that the male had visited this same area. The last time he had been here he had got into a fight over a deer carcass he had scavenged. Come to think of it, he had been in a few scuffles lately. Xander’s brow furrowed as he mused over his past encounters. They had left him scarred and bloody, beaten and in need of some rest. He couldn't go on like he had been for much longer, it was putting a great deal of strain on his body and the signs of his deteriorating health were beginning to show.

He hadn't yet been able to wash all the blood and dirt from his pelt, having been unlucky in not coming across a clean source of water to treat and rinse out his wounds. The majority were situated along his scruff from where he had been pinned down by the much larger wolves on numerous occasions. They also happened to be out of his reach: it pained him to admit it, but he would have to rely on the help of another to enable them to heal properly. The thought of being dependent on a stranger, having yet to make any notable friends in these lands being new, filled him with dread and made the male brand himself a failure. He had become a pitiful excuse for a hot-blooded male. Russet ears fell back flat against his head in silent self-loathing. He had once been a shy and frightful pup and it seemed once again, his insecurities were beginning to show.

Snapping back from his thoughts with a brisk shake of his head, Xander’s bright amber eyes scanned the snow-frosted horizon line ahead of him. There, stark against the white backdrop of the snow, he could distinguish the figure of the female wolf he had been unknowingly tracking. He paused, watching her in silence for a moment, noticing how she gazed intently at the ground. The male frowned in slight confusion. Giving a rough shake of his pelt, he continued to move in closer, walking up to the female with a slight limp in his gait which he desperately tried to hide. He approached the female with a calm, non-aggressive posture, not wanting to get himself into any more trouble given the state he was in. Keeping his distance for a moment, he circled her from the side to eventually settle his aching body down a few metres behind her, glancing curiously over her shoulder. ”Found something?” He questioned sincerely.